One Drink Too Many
by JazzyCat
Summary: I was only doing this as a favor to Ruka. I didn't know why he'd asked me to go to this bar, but here I was, wondering what to do next. Hey, is that Polka dots at the bar there? Wow, she's drunk as all hell, huh? Oh, I get it now, Ruka. You owe me. Onesho


**One Drink Too Many**

I gripped the handles of my bike and turned, leaning slightly to the right as I sped toward my exit, cutting in between the cars in my way. Someone honked and I flipped them the bird, my helmet obscuring any expression that might convey my current mood, which, at that moment, was pretty fucking pissed off.

I was tired as hell. I'd been working double shifts at work to pay for my sister's schooling and I'd barely gotten any sleep the entire week. As soon as I get a day off what happens? Ruka calls me to come meet him in some bar downtown. Says it's "an emergency" or some shit like that.

I wanted to scream obscenities into the phone, and had it been anyone other than Ruka, I would have. But he was my best friend so I grudgingly got dressed in something casual and grabbed my helmet and keys.

I still didn't know what could be so damn important that I had to drive down to a bar. Ruka wasn't the type to get drunk without a ride, and he'd been dating that Imai girl for a few months now anyway, so she should have been able to give him a lift.

I pulled up to a red light and waited, revving my engine impatiently. My legs were restless as I braced them on the pavement, and I mentally willed the light to change so I could get to where I needed to be and then go home and sleep. I tapped the heel of my worn-down high tops on the asphalt.

The light flickered over to green and I was off, weaving in and out of traffic and passing them all, ignoring the honks and protesting squeaks of tires braking a little too suddenly. Served them right for getting in my way.

I got away from the highway and more toward the inner city, heading for the backstreets where all the clubs and bars resided. My eyes scanned the neon signs through the tint of my helmet until I found the one that I was called to: Club Alice.

The sign in front was pink and the people coming in and out were predominantly women. I found myself wondering what I was doing there. I sighed, rested the helmet on the seat of my bike and ran my fingers through my hair as I walked through the doors.

The second I did, the pounding music filled my ears and only served to worsen my headache. I narrowed my eyes and searched the throngs of people looking for my best friend. I didn't see him, so I headed to the bar to ask the bartender. My phone buzzed in my pocket.

When I pulled it out, the screen said I had a text from Ruka. I flipped my phone open and read it quickly.

_Go to the bar, please take care of her._

Take care of who was my first thought. I was already headed in that direction, so I took a seat and looked around.

Most people were dancing. In fact, there was only one other person beside me sitting on the rotating stools.

Mikan Sakura.

She was drunk off her ass and I could tell before I even got her attention. Her head was down on the bar and her hands dangled limply at her sides. She looked sick. I suppressed a snicker, but I was wondering what had made her this way.

I quickly texted Ruka asking him why I was the one who had to do this and his reply was vague. He was "busy." I took that as he was getting laid or something and didn't interfere.

_Just take her home, please?_

He was one of her very close friends, and he was one of mine. I couldn't refuse. Sighing again, I put my phone away and turned to the inebriated girl beside me.

"Oi, Polka dots."

Her eyes were hazy as she looked up for the speaker. I was the only one who called her that, so she had to have known it was me. Even so, her face lit up with what might have been surprise when she saw my face.

"Natsume!" She slurred. She tried to stand up and stumbled, catching herself against the bar at the last second. She stood tall like she hadn't fallen at all, and moved toward me. "What are you doin' here?"

Her face was flushed bright pink and I couldn't like and say I didn't like it. It was very…cute. But the fact that her hair and clothes were a mess and she was drooling all over herself cancelled out that cute factor.

"Ruka sent me," I replied shortly. I propped one elbow on the bar and rested my chin in my hand. "Never mentioned anything about you, though."

She giggled stupidly and grabbed a glass—I'm not even sure if it was hers—off the counter and pressed it into my hands. "Have a drink wiff me, Natsume! It's fun!" She giggled again and tried to sit down, only to turn and trip on her own ankles. I put the glass down and pulled out my wallet to pay for her bar tab. It was a surprisingly large amount of money. So much for working double shifts.

"C'mon, Polka, let's go." I picked her up under her arms like she was a child, though I would never forget that she was, in fact, a woman, as she was the woman I had fallen for years and years ago. And refused to admit it.

As soon as she seemed steady enough on her own two feet, I let go and started walking to the door. I turned a few seconds later to make sure she was following, only to see her still at the bar, ordering another drink.

"Hey!"

Her head turned toward me, hair swinging wildly and her face broke into a grin. "You're back!" She downed the drink she'd just ordered and I paid for that one as well before grabbing her elbow and forcibly pulling her away.

"Come on. Time to go home."

"Yours or mine?" She asked, laughing like that was the funniest thing in the world. I realized then that I didn't know where her house was.

"Where do you live?"

We were outside the club on the sidewalk, and she pointed a finger shakily in one direction. "That way!" she cried. I watched as her brow furrowed and she looked the other way. "Or was it this way…" I slapped myself in the forehead. "I don't have my key anyway," she laughed.

Ruka seriously owed me. So did Hotaru for that matter. "My place then…"

I led the girl to my bike and put on her helmet for her, then slid my own on and helped the idiot onto the seat, my fingers lingering on her waist maybe just a few seconds longer than they should have. And I won't like and say I didn't like it. I also won't like and say I didn't like her arms around my waist.

"Hold on tight," I warned her and she listened, seeming to sober up a bit when she realized that if she let go she could fall to her doom. Her arms squeezed gently and I chuckled and revved the engine to scare her. She shrieked in delight. Even better.

I kick-started us and we were off with a jolt, speeding down the street past the other drunken fools who were walking, supporting themselves on the shoulders of friends. I supposed Ruka didn't want Mikan to end up like that, and that's why he'd called me.

Whatever. I would get her to my place and then let her crash on the couch until she was sober enough to remember where she lived. Then she would get the hell out of my house, pay me back for her bar tab, and then never bother me again. I was going to miss hours of sleep because of this.

"Stupid Polka dots," I mumbled, and even _I_ couldn't miss the affectionate tone to my own voice. I needed to start masking that better.

I got back on the highway and headed back the way I'd come, staying in the center lane until I was safely away from any exits. No one was speeding past me, so I took the chance to get in the far right lane and speed up.

What I loved about riding a motorcycle was the freedom. When I was just on dirt roads going at a moderate speed, I didn't wear my helmet, just to feel the wind in my hair.

On the highway, however, it was dangerous. More motorbike accidents happened on the highway than on dirt roads and I wasn't stupid enough to risk my life for a cheap thrill.

Apparently, the drunken girl behind me was.

"This is fun!" She shouted, her voice muffled by the helmet so I barely registered what she'd said until I felt her arms loosening. And then they suddenly weren't there anymore. She wasn't holding onto anything.

"Mikan!" I screamed. "What are you doing?" I threw a quick glance over my shoulder to see her removing her helmet. I shifted over to the left lane and slowed until I could move onto the shoulder of the road and get the kickstand down.

I jumped off the bike and grabbed her wrist as soon as my feet touched ground. "Are you insane? Do you want to die?" She looked completely happy, having no clue how close to death she had very nearly come. I, on the other hand, was breathing hard, adrenaline and fear pumping hard through my veins. The thought of losing her was just too much.

"Why did you let go?!" The spare helmet fell from her hand and onto the ground. My eyes never left her face, all traces of merriment gone. "Why did you take your helmet off?! You could have died! You are very lucky, do you hear? You could be a red smear on the road right now!"

My eyes stung. My face was hot. My head hurt. I was tired.

It was all because of this idiot. This beautiful, loveable idiot that I couldn't seem to make myself hate.

"I-I'm sorry…" tears welled up in her eyes. "I just wanted to feel the wind in my hair." She was sniffling.

I pinched the bridge of my nose and sighed. Bending down, I picked up her helmet and handed it back to her. She took it in her small hands and replaced it on her head. I climbed back on and did the same.

"You scared me. Just don't do that again, alright?" I smiled encouragingly, trying to get her to stop crying, and forgetting that she couldn't see my face through the glass. I gave her an awkward, reassuring, one-armed hug instead. "Idiot."

She laughed.

---------------

I was definitely mistaken in thinking she was sober. Because she most definitely was not.

I parked the bike and helped her off. She couldn't walk in a straight line. I pocketed my keys and tried to hold both helmets in one hand while guiding Polka dots with the other. "You're going the wrong way." I redirected her to my apartment building. Her small hands clung tightly to my jacket.

After I unlocked the door, I had a good laugh watching her attempt to climb the stairs. She ended up getting down on all fours and walking up them like a dog. Then she leaned heavily against the wall and waited for me to unlock the door to apartment 4. My place.

She was humming to herself, a tune I didn't recognize. Then she tried to dance and nearly fell down the stairs again. If I hadn't caught her, she would have.

I wrapped one arm around her waist and escorted her inside.

"This is like a hug!" She said, snuggling her arm against my shoulder.

"Sure, Polka, whatever."

"Dead fish!" She suddenly cried and went limp in my arm, laughing insanely as I shifted my weight to compensate for supporting hers. I grunted a little as I dropped the helmets and used both arms to keep her upright.

"You're going to have one hell of a hangover." I said this to myself more than her, as she had found it amusing to crawl across the floor, saying something about the carpet being soft. I rolled my eyes and headed into the kitchen to make a pot of decaf coffee to hopefully help dull the affects of the alcohol. I wondered if she'd eaten. Since I didn't know, I made her toast. Food is good when drinking.

"Oi, Polka dots, get in here."

"'Kay!" Her enthusiastic cry was heard, followed by a few footsteps and a huge crash. I winced, feeling stupid that I didn't go and get her. I walked into the living room to assess the damage.

She'd managed to upend my recliner chair. I didn't know how, and I doubted she would either if I asked her, so I just put it back the way it was and then dragged her into the kitchen to eat. "Eat this toast and drink the coffee," I commanded. "And don't leave the room. I'll be right back."

After she nodded and started to eat, I cautiously left to my bedroom to change. The clothes I wore out stank of cigarettes and cheap perfume from the bodies pressed together in the club. I put on a pair of sweats and an old t-shirt, throwing the others in the corner of the room.

The bed looked very inviting and I wanted to curl up under my blankets then and there, but I heard the off-key singing of a certain brunette and I was reminded of why I wasn't already sleeping.

I took care of the dishes and let her use my shower, leaving another old shirt of mine for her to wear when she got out, and then went to fix up the couch for her to sleep on. I tucked a spare sheet into the cushions and put a pillowcase on one of the stupid throw pillows there. They were probably lumpy. Not that she would notice.

I went back to my room and looked for a way to kill time until Mikan got out of the shower. I couldn't keep my eyes open and ended up leaning against my headboard and dozing off.

---------------

"Naaaaatsuuuuumeeeee." I heard a sickly-sweet voice calling my name. I snapped my eyes open and found myself staring into the face of one very wet, towel-clad, still-drunk girl. I sighed.

"Why are you in my room?"

She giggled unintelligently. "That doesn't help me believe you when you say you're intelligent," I said, though I wasn't entirely sure she even understood me. She just sat down on my bed and laughed again. "What's so funny?" I stood up and got that shirt I'd lent her. It was still folded up on the counter in the bathroom. I tossed it to her, and it landed on her head. She left it there.

"Natsumeeee!" She sang again. I took in the severity of the situation (it had taken me a moment to wake up) and my face got warm. Blushing? Fuck.

"Mikan, get dressed and go to sleep, please. I'm tired. I have work tomorrow."

She stood up and then lost her balance and fell back down onto my bed, stretched out. She had a difficult time trying to sit back up while clutching the towel closed, so I gave her a hand in putting on the shirt and she slipped her towel out from under it, safely exposing nothing to me.

But it didn't help that now she was dressed only in a shirt of mine that was much too big for her and I found it very, very….cute. And there were no messy factors to cancel out the cute this time.

"Natsume, you have a wrinkle between your eyebrows when you make that face. It's funny!" She tried to imitate the face I made.

"I'm glad you find my face amusing, Mikan. Now go to sleep." She shook her head vehemently.

"Not tired!"

"Well, I am." I was about two seconds away from dragging her away and going to bed.

"Natsume?"

"What?" I was starting to get annoyed.

"Do you know what I think?"

"No, Mikan," I said. "I didn't even know you _could_ think." Zing, right over her head. It was like she hadn't heard me insulting her.

"I think," she pursed her lips to look like she was contemplating her word choice. "That you are a very handsome man." She ended up stating it matter-of-factly. I was surprised to hear her say that, even though I knew it was only because of the alcohol. I quickly regained my composure.

"Of course I am, Polka dots. You don't need to tell me."

"Hee hee!"

"Alright, now that you've said that, can you—"

"Natsume, will you have sex with me?"

I nearly choked on my own spit. WHAT had she just asked me to do? I thought I heard her say…

"Please, Natsume?" She put on a pouty face and looked at me sadly.

I closed my eyes and prayed to heaven that I not lose my control. That face, that outfit, the lack of underwear. She was even drunk. It was all a little too much. A little too cruel.

Because it was exactly what I wanted.

"No, Mikan. I won't have sex with you." My voice cracked at the end of the sentence. She looked dejected, just sitting on my bed with a sad look. Her hair was down, and I couldn't help but notice how good it looked. Though I was only trying to distract myself.

"Why not?" She whined. I sat down, having been drained of all my energy, on the edge of my bed. She sidled up next to me and just stared. "I won't get mad at you. Really. It's okay." She put her hand on my shoulder. Her fingers were cold.

I looked at her tiredly. "It's because you're drunk, Mikan. You don't know what you're saying." She had probably just said something that she thought stereotypical drunk people said. "If you were sober, you wouldn't want it. And you'd regret it either way."

"No, I wouldn't. And who are you to tell me what I'd want?" She was starting to get angry. But it was that empty anger that came with too much drink.

"I know that you wouldn't want this."

She decided then to flop back down across my bedspread and sigh. "I like you, Natsume. I have for a looooooong time." She was still drawing out her vowel sounds, assuring me she was still drunk and probably not aware of what she was talking about. It was starting to be a little too much for me. My restraints were snapping.

"Mikan…" I said with a warning tone. She ignored me.

"I think I really decided I loved you….when we were with Reo that one time." I remembered it well. "You were going to kill yourself and I got scared, Natsume…" She started crying and I felt foolish and guilty for being the one to cause those tears. That had happened nine years ago, and I'd thought that suicide was the only option to save her life.

"I loved you even before that, Mikan," I whispered. I hadn't meant for her to hear, but her head snapped up.

"Then why won't you have sex with me?"

"There are many reasons, Polka dots."

"Name some!"

"Alright…." I tried to think. "One, you're drunk. Drunk sex is awful sex. Two, you say that you love me now, Mikan and you could be lying. Maybe you just want to get laid so you'd say anything. You're really playing with my feelings here. Three, if you want this now and wake up to regret it, you'd blame me and I'd feel bad. Even if it's your fault. Four, I love you Mikan. I don't want to hurt you."

"I'm not playing with yur feelingsh." She was back to slurring. "I really do…"

"Something makes me doubt that, Polka dots." I ran my fingers through my hair, wishing it was all true. Wouldn't that just be great?

"Then how can I prove it to you?" She demanded, arms crossed over her chest. "How can I make you shee I'm sherioush?"

"Easy, Polka. Tell me what you just told me. When you're sober." I smiled and leaned over to push her back onto the bed. She didn't look like she was going to move anytime soon so I was going to go sleep on the couch. I covered her up and she stared up at me with puppydog eyes.

"Or…" She said quietly. I waited, thinking she was going to name an alternative. Instead, she leaned up and kissed me.

It was sloppy, and a little wet, but nonetheless, it was her. She was gentle and almost reluctant, as though trying to gauge my reaction.

My restraint snapped and I kissed her back. I put my passion into it, ten years of repressed feelings into one short kiss. She returned my passion with equal fervor, and I wanted to make myself believe that she was telling me the truth. Wanted it so badly.

We broke for air and just as I was going in for another, her head slumped back against the pillow, dead asleep. I grinned.

Polka dots would forever be Polka dots.

Red numbers beside my bed informed me of the ungodly hour at which I was still awake. Too tired to move anymore, I curled up under the covers next to Mikan and turned off the lights.

The only thing I knew for sure at that moment (besides Mikan returned my feelings) was that I was calling in sick to work in the morning.

* * *

**A/N: Something I had stuck in my head for a while. There may be more to this, but for now it remains this oneshot right here. Show support if you want more! Review, please! Thanks!**


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